goes Q Clear The sun goes down just now slowly, slowly, slowly, even for this winter day: orange, nearly red, red. It is clear, so we think: "Dare I stare into its face?" Now, too, the sun pulls up the moon; white more than once for each of us, tonight we know it is to be red, very, very red; There where you, here where I, breathe; here where I take in all the breath of yours I can; there where you take in what you can of mine; the winter distance helps show it to us. The sun and the moon will not let clearness turn our eyes away. So we know, as we will see the very red moon become the most blazing, yet softest white any could ever know: "I want to stare into those eyes you are holding open for me to walk through, in the light of every moon, every sun, every season, as long as we both breathe." Copr. 2000 000120 what's it to you? who go blather from